#hurts to breath

[ditzyredrobin]

With This Breath (I Promise to Protect You)

Or what I wrote instead of finishing my first chapter of Shrike. Chapter one is tentatively coming out on Saturday. I’m still tweaking a few things to help the flow.

This is part of my Bad Things Happen bingo card so expect more whump yet. 😅

Prompt: Hurts to Breathe

-

“Easy, it’s just me.”

Tim looked up from the mound of crumbled man in front of him, bo staff outreached in a protective stance, ready to go again, if needed. Dick’s brow was furrowed, palms outstretched in a universal “I-come-in-peace” sign, as he slowly took a step towards them. “I’m not going to hurt him, I promise, I just need to go trust me, okay?”

Tim tensed.

It was Dick, he reminded himself.

Logically, he knew Dick wouldn’t hurt him, he was safe, he had protected them both before, but he couldn’t stop his body’s reaction. Jason was laid out on the ground behind him, unmoving aside from the rise and fall of his chest (last time he’d checked at least) and vulnerable. There was a dent in his helmet near his temple where he’d been hit. Hard.

Tim’s chest ached with each uneven breaths. Truthfully, he felt like a wrong gust of wind was enough to knock him down at this point but he would protect Jason, or go down trying. He had to protect him. He had promised months ago when they had first gotten together that what had happened to Jason as Robin would never happen again.

Until his last breath, he would keep both Dick and Jason safe, come Hell or high water, damn it.

So, why was he braced to fight Dick? He didn’t have an answer.

Dick froze, “I know you’re worried about him, I am, too. I won’t hurt either of you, I just want to help.”

He sounded earnest but Tim couldn’t stop himself—Tim bared his teeth at Dick in a snarl. If he had to fight Dick, he would. He wasn’t going to let anyone hurt Jason.

Not again.

The shadows rippled behind Nightwing as Batman and Robin entered the scene—Dick a few feet from them and Tim blocking Jason’s body with his own.

Everything ached from head to toe and his vision had begun to blur. He leaned heavily on his staff, leaving him open for attack, but if it meant keeping Jason safe, he would.

Nightwing held up his hand, stopping Batman and Robin from getting too close. Surprisingly, Batman stopped, holding Robin back with him.

“Nightwing, report.” The voice of the Dark Knight jostled Tim’s brain back into reality just a little bit.

“I’m not sure what happened, I heard Hood call for back up over the comms, and when I got here, he was down and Red was like this.” Dick gestured to the duo.

What Tim wouldn’t do to sit down right now. He was beginning to feel lightheaded and airy. He shivered as the cold night began to settle in his bones.

Batman grunted and Tim could feel his icy blue eyes examining the situation through his white outs.

Tt came from Robin’s mouth, “Get over yourself, Drake, and stop being so dramatic. We simply want to help.”

Oh, he knew that voice.

The one that had cut his line, who had attempted to murder him on no less than two occasions. Tim grit his teeth and stood up straight, the effort left him panting. He wouldn’t let him touch Jason.

Now it was go time.

“Robin, enough.”

Even if it wasn’t directed at him, the command sent a shiver down Tim’s spine. Some of the tension eased from his body. He wasn’t Robin anymore but his body acted like it was for him on reflex, like he was still Robin. Like the command was for him.

“But father-“

“Enough.”

“Tt.”

Dick and Batman shared a look, both seeming to have noticed him almost drop his guard.

“Red Robin, report.”

Tim shivered again. That voice was engrained on his brain as the one that would always keep him safe, Tim was his Robin, his son.

“Robin, report.” Batman called again when his first command had gone unanswered. “Now.”

Okay, he could do this. Batman was here.

He could do this.

“I was helping Hood take down a trafficking ring when we were ambushed. Hood took a blow to the head with a bat and has been down for 4 minutes.” Tim said automatically, as if under a trance.

Batman grunted, seemingly satisfied with his answer. “What is the state of your injuries?” Because it was obvious he was injured, wasn’t it? You can’t hide much from Batman.

“I took a blow to the ribs and hip. Two possibly broken ribs and my left ankle is sprained.”

Batman made it that easy. If Batman asked a question, Tim would give it to him. There was no going against Batman.

Batman grunted in response, not taking his eyes off of Tim and Jason. “You’ve done a good job tonight, it’s time to go home. Can you make it to the Batmobile on your own or do you need help?”

Tim frowned like that was actually a question but he couldn’t leave right now because his home wasn’t with the Bat’s. His home was the theater and Jason was right here, hurt and vulnerable laid out on the pavement behind him. He couldn’t leave him alone now—he was hurt.

But oh, god, did he want to sit down.

Tim felt his knees wobble at the thought and grit his teeth.

No, he had to be strong. He is strong, he can sit down when the case is closed and everyone of his family members is safe. Until then, he would push. He would push, and go, and hold on until he finally had the time to fall apart and it took a hell of a lot more than a bat to keep him down (Heh, a Bat).

He must have spaced out again because suddenly Batman has taken several steps closer to him and says, “Robin, are you listening? It’s time to go home.”

“But Jason-“

“Is going home, too.” Batman says firmly, taking a step towards him. “Now, let go. Let us help you both.”

Tim bit his lip.

“Robin, now.”

And that was the end of that. He couldn’t disobey a direct command by Batman of all people—of Bruce.

Tim’s knees finally did give in, collapsing under him which apparently meant go time because suddenly he wasn’t on the ground. He was being held up by Dick’s arms, just suddenly there, and Batman was down beside Hood while Robin zip tied the last baddie of the night.

“Gotcha ya.” Dick said softly, pulling him close to his chest. “We’ve got you, Baby Bird.”

[whumpookies]

Highlight you favorite whump aesthetic: coughing..

A few favourites..winds of love, teskilat and bir ask.

[iamsonormalaboutninjago]

I’ve been reading @waterthecoconut ‘s Llorumi fanfictions for two hours now omg.

I need sleep but I must read more aughhh

I know what i have to do but I don’t have the strength to do it-

:[

Serious shoutout to them tho they’re such beautifully written stories about a redeemed Harumi. So far my fav has been “drive a faster car” cause of Lloyd’s complex relationship with his dad post Crystalized. Seriously they can write a descriptive scene better than multimillionaire novelists please check them out!

Link below ⬇️

[sheikfangirl]

"Shhh Link... I'm right here. We're home. It's okay... "

♥ Hurt & Comfort time ♥

Post-Totk Link is still plagued with nightmares of the Light Dragon, Gloom Hands, Phantom Ganon...Puppet Zelda...loneliness.

He wakes up at night screaming, hyperventilating, sobbing. But Zelda is there and she comforts him with love, kindness and patience! Like Link did for her Post-Botw.

It's gonna take time...but Link is gonna be fine ♥ Zelda too.

They are all gonna be fine and live happily ever after!!!

And Hateno domestic fluff resumes.

Gotta love when Zelda comforts her knight

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Heh...Literally nothing personal, kid.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[blueskittlesart]

i dont have a caption for this one but know that this took me multiple months of work to produce. i hate drawing birds

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

[ ID in ALT ]

he giggles

[sunlit-mess]

spam

[demaparbat-hp]

I always think about Zuko having days when his head is just so unkind to him that he can’t get up. And all you can do is love him and be with him until it passes.

Zuko curled in bed and Katara holding him, kissing his shoulder. Or Katara sitting next to him and bending down to kiss him.

Thank you for these, they’ve been such a little flame of love and hope right now

Please don't go.

[swordheld]

do the silly thing. if you do not do the silly thing time will pass and it will not be the same silly thing it could have been. it will still be silly, and it will still be yours, but it will not be the same. this is both a blessing and a curse, but so is living; and if you do not do it now when will you? who will? it has to be you, it was always meant for you, waiting for you.

[claraoswalds]

The Girl Who Died // Hell Bent

[send-me-a-puffalope]

“she covered up murders” “she threw mike’s pills into the river” okay and? 🤨 god forbid women have hobbies. what happened to supporting women’s rights and women’s wrongs.

she has sad eyes, daddy issues, and a sweater. i rest my case.

[phewgitoid]

scribbly experiments

[lloydfrontera]

'lloyd is very weak now and needs to marry so he'll have someone to protect him'- lloyd has the only grandmaster on the world following him around like a puppy. he has the most terrifying motherfucker on the world wrapped around his little finger. he has the one person in the world who can hit an absolute in the head and get away with it swearing in his heart to protect him no matter the cost over and over again.

lloyd made javier watch him die twice right in front of him just to keep him alive. there is no power on existence that could make javier allow anyone or anything to even think about harming lloyd again.

lloyd is fine

[canisalbus]

How often does Machete have to go through bloodletting? I remember seeing you post about Machete's anemia and bloodletting at some point. this is for evil research.

I think that might vary depending on how healthy or sick he's feeling. If he's having a few good weeks or a good month he may not need to be bled at all. But whenever he's suffering from his usual headaches, fatique, sleeplessness, nosebleeds, heart palpitations or what have you, or he has caught some bug or is having particularly bad bouts of nervousness and melancholia he'd go through another regimen of bloodletting to have his humors rebalanced. I could see once every two weeks being a reasonable interval for regular maintenance, and more often than that if he's actively ill, up to several sessions per day in direst cases.

[demigods-posts]

just now. imagining percy before learning of his father as a god. remembering nothing of him but a face he couldn't name. a face he and his father shared. percy often wondering if they were similar in other ways. if his father liked wrapping his arms around mom while she packed s'mores for the campfire like he did. if his father liked long car rides to the beach while mom sang to whatever was playing on the radio like he did. if his father liked running along the beachside shore while the water crashed against his feet like he did. if the reason his father was lost at sea was because he wanted to immerse himself in all the ocean had to offer. if the waves were so captivating, he'd dive underneath the surface and search to his heart's content. if the reason he was lost was because he wanted to find himself. if faces were any indication, percy didn't know who he was. maybe his father felt that way too.